His warm brown eyes were filled with concern when they landed on mine, and although he’d never spoken to me directly, he’d asked about me, had even gotten into a fight with Griller because of me.
Why couldn’t I have met him instead of Pike? Would he have mistreated me as well? Did he only ask about me because he wanted to enjoy my body, or was he genuinely concerned for my well-being?
While I didn’t know anything about him, other than he belonged to a different club, there was something about the way he looked at me that made my heart stutter, but in a good way.
Perhaps I was simply conjuring feelings that didn’t exist because fantasy and delusion were better than my actuality. Even so, I looked forward to the next time I’d see him. But after the last brawl between their clubs, I wasn’t sure whether Griller would take me along to the fights any longer. I was surprised he let me outside at all, let alone around a bunch of strangers. He threatened to kill me if I ever attempted to escape and I believed him, so I never tried.
He climbed off when he finished. He never lasted long, which was a blessing. The clink of his belt buckle made me flinch, but then I heard his zipper and realized he wasn’t gonna use his belt on me this time.
“I’m tired of you,” he said nonchalantly, kicking the side of my leg with his. “Get up.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me from the bed, leaning in so close the tip of his nose touched mine. “I won’t be fuckin’ you anymore.” For a moment, my heart burst with elation, but it wasn’t to last. His next words slammed into me, shredding any hope I held that I wouldn’t suffer any more abuse. “I’m givin’ you to Dutch.”
“Please… no.” My body shook in fear. “I’ll do anything.” I reached for his arm when he turned to walk away. The second I touched him, I realized my mistake, but I had to try to convince him not to give me away. For as bad as Griller was, Dutch was worse. I’d seen what he’d done to the women he’d been with. They left with not only bruises but scars. He liked to use knives on them, and while Griller had broken my wrist, punched, kicked, and raped me, he was still better than Dutch.
The man before me was the devil I knew.
He rushed toward me, knocking me to the ground with a swift backhand. “You wanna stay with me?” he asked, leaning over me, kicking me when I took too long to answer.
“Y-yes,” I cried, clutching the side of my face and scurrying back as far as I could, fearful he’d kick me again.
“What are you willing to do for me if I keep you?”
I looked up into his hateful eyes. “Anything.”
“You already do anything I want.” He shrugged. “Nah… I think Dutch will enjoy you from now on. Besides, he’ll owe me big for the favor. But don’t worry, he won’t be back from Mexico until tomorrow, so you’ll only have to deal with some of the other brothers until then.”
I parted my lips to beg him to reconsider, but he walked out of the bedroom before I could utter a single word.
Closing my eyes, I said a silent prayer to a God I wasn’t even sure existed anymore.
Please end my life before anyone else can.
6
“I still can’t wrap my head around what the hell is goin’ on, man,” I uttered, following Kaden up the front steps to his porch. After Cutter told us to leave the basement, we decided the only place we could go to hash shit out was back to his place. Some of the guys may have gone back to the clubhouse, but Kaden and I needed to attempt to wrap our heads around the debacle with Tag before we talked to anyone else again.
After we entered his house, he headed straight for the kitchen to grab two beers. I made myself comfortable on his couch, glancing around and wishing I had a place of my own for once. Before tonight, I’d been perfectly content living at home, but discovering my ol’ man seemed perfectly fine with ending someone’s life put a damper on wanting to live under his roof.
I tried not to judge my father, Marek, or any of the other guys in the club, but it was hard not to after witnessing what I had a couple hours ago.
Granted, Kaden and I didn’t understand the severity of life in the club from decades ago, but whatever happened between us and the Reapers had ended when we were babies, so why were they still acting like we were at war with them?
The coldness of the bottle Kaden thrust into my hand brought me back from my wandering thoughts. He sat at the other end of the couch, propping his feet up on the edge of his coffee table.
“What the fuck?” was all he said, before draining a hefty portion of his drink. Kaden ran his hand over the top of his dark hair, then down his face, looking over at me when I remained silent. I didn’t think he expected me to respond, but he wouldn’t be opposed to my opinion either, I was sure.
“I’m still tryin’ to figure out how Tag got all mixed up in this shit,” I mumbled. “I mean, I know why he’s involved, but if he is a Reaper, he fooled me.”
“Me too,” Kaden added. “I’m always such a good judge of character. I don’t see how I missed this one. There was no indication whatsoever he was anything other than what he showed us.”
I nodded, unable to add anything more because he hit the proverbial nail on the head.
“Do you think Marek will really have someone check out his story?”
He took another long pull of
